Adventure Time meets The Raven
by BNSF1995
Summary: After a war forces Finn to kill his ex-girlfriend Flame Princess to defend the Candy Kingdom, Finn sits in the Candy Kingdom's library, taking to literature to ease his broken soul. In the night, though, a visitor appears...


Once upon a midnight dreary, while Finn pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—

While he nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at his chamber door.

"'It's some visitor," he muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—

Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly he remembers it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly he wished the morrow;—vainly he had sought some rinses

From his hands bloodied with sorrow—sorrow for the slain and evil Flame Princess—

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Phoebe—

Nameless _here_ for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled him—filled him with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of his heart, he stood repeating

"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—

This it is and nothing more."

Presently he soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Jake," said I, "or Marceline, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here he opened wide the door;—

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long he stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Phoebe?"

This he whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Phoebe!"—

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all his soul within him burning,

Soon again he heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said he, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—

'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here he flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

In there stepped that crazy Ice King of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above Finn's chamber door—

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above his chamber door—

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this poor old wizard beguiling Finn's sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," he said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Ice King "Nevermore."

Much Finn marvelled this ungainly king to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing wizard above his chamber door—

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Ice King, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered—not a hand then he fluttered—

Till Finn scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before—

On the morrow _he_ will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

Then the Ice King said "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

"Doubtless," said Finn, "what it utters is its only stock and store

Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore

Of 'Never—nevermore'."

But the Ice King still beguiling all his fancy into smiling,

Straight he wheeled a cushioned seat in front of turd, and bust and door;

Then, upon the velvet sinking, he betook himself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This Finn sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

To the wizard whose fiery eyes now burned into his bosom's core;

This and more he sat divining, with his head at ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

 _She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, he thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," Finn cried, "thy Glob hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Phoebe;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Phoebe!"

Quoth the Ice King "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said he, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if king or devil!—

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—

On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—

Is there— _is_ there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Ice King "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said Finn, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if king or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us—by that Glob we both adore—

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Phoebe—

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Phoebe."

Quoth the Ice King "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, fool or fiend!" he shrieked, upstarting—

"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the Ice King "Nevermore."

And the Ice King, never flitting, still is sitting, _still_ is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above Finn's chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And Finn's soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted—nevermore!


End file.
